Freddy took a step back.
‘What were you doing up there?’ said Penk.
He picked up the broom and barred the door again. Although he must have been twice Freddy’s age and more, Freddy now saw how strong he looked, and did not much fancy his chances against him. Penk’s shoulders were wide and powerful, and he had the forearms of the boxer he had once been. Freddy knew he was trapped now, and decided he might as well make the most of it.
‘I was testing a theory,’ he said.
‘Oh?’
‘Yes. I wanted to know whether I could see the Houses of Parliament from the roof. But in the end I got distracted and forgot to look. Perhaps you know the answer. Can you see them?’
‘Why are you asking me that? How should I know?’
‘No, I suppose you wouldn’t,’ said Freddy. ‘It was dark, wasn’t it?’
Penk regarded him without speaking for a moment.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he said at last.
‘I think you do,’ said Freddy. ‘I think you’re very familiar with the route from this balcony to the terrace on the other side of the building.’
‘Is that so?’ said Penk. He had not taken his eyes off Freddy, and was staring at him much as a snake might stare at a mouse as it contemplated the best direction from which to strike.
Freddy continued, perhaps recklessly:
‘That’s how you did it, isn’t it? Killed your wife, I mean. Or perhaps you didn’t consider her your wife any more. After all, you’d been separated for long enough. But after all this time she was starting to become—what do they call it? A millstone around your neck. She was too demanding, and her demands were threatening the future of Aston-Penk and all the hard work you’d put into it to build it up. Henry Aston had got a sort of idée fixe about her, and was insisting on putting her in all your pictures in future. It was he who wanted her for the part of Helen Harper. But you knew she was no good for the rôle—just as everybody else knew it. Kenneth Neale didn’t want her, and wouldn’t have joined the film had he known she was going to get the part. You got him under false pretences and thought you’d be able to talk him round, but he was threatening lawyers. It was dreadfully important to you that this film did not fail. You were running out of money, and the only person you could go to for it was the very man who was unwittingly sabotaging the company by insisting on interfering. You spoke to Sir Aldridge about the possibility of his putting money into the venture, and thought he might agree, but he was keen on keeping the film British through and through, and Dorothy was an obstacle to that.’
‘Clever, aren’t you?’ said Penk.
‘On top of that, there was the question of Cora,’ went on Freddy. ‘I saw the two of you together the other day, and it was obvious there was something going on. Was Dorothy standing in the way of you both?’
‘Dorothy never could bear anyone to have anything of hers,’ said Penk. ‘Especially not Cora. She was a child in many respects. She’d had things all her own way for so long that she never learned how to share or play nice.’
‘So I understand,’ said Freddy.
He was eyeing the door, wondering whether he might take Penk by surprise and make a run at it. But the broom fitted stiffly through the door handles, and he knew he was unlikely to succeed. All he could do was to try and keep Penk talking until someone realized the two of them were missing, since he was very aware that behind him was a precipitous drop of six storeys. He went on:
‘At any rate, you wanted rid of her, so you took matters into your own hands. I don’t know how long you’d been planning it, but I’m sure you were watching events closely that evening in case the opportunity should arise—as it did. You encouraged Kenneth Neale to follow you onto the terrace here, and made sure you were both seen going that way. You talked, and then said something to calm him down and sent him back into the living-room, while you stayed here. This was to be your alibi, and you didn’t want someone coming out and finding you weren’t here, so you jammed the door shut and then climbed up onto the roof. You went across and saw Dorothy standing outside Cora’s room talking to Basil, and waited until he’d gone back indoors. Then you jumped down, threw her over the edge and hared back the way you had come. A few minutes later you made a great show of coming out into the living-room and calling for a drink, just as the manager of the hotel arrived to tell you that Dorothy had been found dead. It was a good alibi, but as you can see, I’ve just shown everyone how it can be broken. I should never have thought of it had I not been forced to scramble across a roof myself a few days ago. It’s just unlucky for you that it gave me the idea as to how you might have done it.’
Penk gave a short laugh.
‘I always knew you reporters were full of invention,’ he said. ‘Try getting that one past the police. They’ll never believe it. Where’s the proof?’
Freddy put his hand into his pocket and brought something out.
‘I found this up on the roof just now,’ he said. ‘It’s a button. It looks as though it’s fallen from an evening-suit. Have you examined yours lately? Any buttons missing?’
For the first time an expression of uncertainty passed across Penk’s face.
‘I shall give this to the police later,’ said Freddy. ‘Let’s see what they make of it. And now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go in. It’s getting a little chilly out here.’
‘You don’t think I’m going to let you back in, do you?’ said Penk. He moved slowly across towards Freddy, who was standing by the railing. Freddy glanced at the door with the broom handle shoved through it and made a dart for it, but Penk blocked his way. Slowly he advanced, driving Freddy back towards the railing. But Freddy had no intention of going without a fight. He stumbled, as though he had tripped over his own feet, and fell against the side wall. Penk hesitated just for a second, and in that second Freddy scrambled around him and back towards the door on his hands and knees. It had been a clumsy move, and it failed; Penk grabbed him by the collar and hauled him to his feet, but before he could get hold of Freddy’s arm, Freddy had wrenched himself free and made a dive for the terrace wall. In a trice he was up and climbing towards the flat part of the roof. If he could make it as far as there, he would surely be safe, since he was much younger and faster than Penk, and could run across and jump down onto the other terrace. But the roof tiles were still slippery, causing him to lose his footing several times, and he had barely reached the top when Penk caught up with him and brought him down. It was now that Freddy found out how physically powerful the other man was, as he felt a pair of strong hands around his neck, beginning to throttle him. Freddy flailed uselessly for a second, then remembered the fight with Seymour at the Maypole and, bringing his arm up, poked his fingers hard into Penk’s eyes. Penk growled in pain and loosened his hold, and Freddy immediately leapt up and made another bolt for it, giving a loud yell as he did so. He was hoping to bring someone to his aid, although he knew it was a forlorn hope, since who would be likely to climb up onto the roof after them? At any rate, he thought that someone might realize what was going on and call the police. He reached the parapet of the main terrace just as Penk caught up with him and seized him by the neck from behind. If Freddy had been hoping for help there he was disappointed, for everyone had gone in now. He was just in time to see Seymour carrying the last of his things back through the door to the living-room, his face set in its usual scowl, before Penk dragged him away from the parapet. Freddy gave a strangled shout but Seymour did not look up.
‘Shut up, will you?’ said Penk through gritted teeth.
He now had Freddy in a head-lock and was dragging him across to another part of the roof which sloped down steeply, with no protection, straight to the street. It was clear he intended to hurl Freddy over the edge.
‘You can’t do this,’ panted Freddy as he tried to wrestle himself free. ‘Nobody will believe it was an accident.’
‘Yes they will,’ said Penk. ‘Everybody saw you up here before. It’ll just look like you slipped. They’ll call it a tragic coincidence. Now, keep still, won’t you?’
He jerked Freddy forward as he spoke. Freddy could hardly breathe, but with a little struggle managed to turn his head towards Penk and free up his air-way. With his left arm he reached up behind Penk’s shoulder, then made a grab for his nose and twisted it hard, at the same time jerking Penk’s head suddenly backwards as far as it would go. With a roar of pain Penk released Freddy’s neck, and the two of them overbalanced and fell over. Now Penk was in a rage. He swung a fist at Freddy’s face, but Freddy rolled out of the way just in time. The two men grappled on the ground, Freddy attempting to poke Penk in the eye again, for he knew he had no chance of beating him in a fist-fight. But Penk was now wise to Freddy’s methods; he jabbed a knee into Freddy’s stomach, winding him, then, still pinning him down with the knee, held his wrists with one hand and cuffed him across the head with the other. He was wearing a heavy gold ring which caught Freddy above the eye, leaving a deep cut that began to bleed.
Then Penk got to his feet and began dragging Freddy with grim determination across the roof towards the edge. There seemed no escape, and Freddy began to consider whether a short prayer might be appropriate in the circumstances. A passing rag-and-bone cart with an old mattress on it would do nicely. Or perhaps he might catch hold of the gutter as he slid over the edge, and cling onto that until help arrived. He kicked with all his might, but his wrists were pinned with a grip of iron. At last they reached the edge, and Penk jerked Freddy upright and prepared to give him a shove, but Freddy took his chance and kicked Penk’s leg out from under him. Down they both went again, this time dangerously close to the edge of the roof. Freddy’s head was dangling downwards into thin air; he could feel blood running into his hair, and he was beginning to feel a little dizzy, as Penk gripped his shoulders and did his best to push him further over. This was the end, surely. Freddy shut his eyes, but just as he was about to give it all up as lost, he thought he heard a shout, and felt Penk loosen his hold. Quick as a flash he opened his eyes again and rolled away from the edge. Through a haze of blood he saw figures running across the roof towards them. Penk was standing by the edge, bent almost double, breathing heavily and clutching at his chest.
‘My heart!’ he wheezed. He had gone blue about the lips and was beginning to sway. As Freddy sat up and wiped the blood from his eyes, he saw Penk totter gently, then sag to his knees and fall sideways. For one dreadful second the top half of his unconscious form hung, motionless, across the edge of the roof, then gravity took effect and the rest of his body followed. It slid down the steeply sloping roof, gathering speed as it went, and then disappeared into the abyss. Freddy winced and looked away. There was a short silence.
‘Are you all right, sir?’ came a familiar voice. Freddy looked up and saw Sergeant Bird and a young constable standing at a cautious distance from the edge of the roof. The constable looked a little green in the face, and as though he had much rather not be there.
‘Ask me tomorrow,’ said Freddy weakly.
‘We’ll get you inside when you’ve got your breath back,’ said Bird. ‘Johnson, go and tell the inspector he’d better close the street off outside. Let’s just hope Mr. Penk didn’t land on anybody.’
The constable went off. Freddy dragged himself a little further away from the edge and got carefully to his feet, and as he did so, he saw Seymour Cosgrove standing there in front of him, holding a camera.
‘Got it all here,’ said Seymour. ‘That ought to make a bit of a splash for you in your paper tomorrow.’
He flashed a brief grin. Freddy stared at him.
‘Yes, I expect it will,’ he said at last.